


DVD Extra

by diemarysues



Series: What Doesn't Kill You [4]
Category: Mission: Impossible - Ghost Protocol (2011)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-14
Updated: 2012-10-14
Packaged: 2017-11-16 07:26:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/536991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/diemarysues/pseuds/diemarysues
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As promised, the DVD Extra! A sort of alternative storyline. Follows 'He Takes the Shot', and definitely not as angsty as the rest of the series ;)</p>
            </blockquote>





	DVD Extra

**Author's Note:**

> Unbetaed. Also, apologies if this doesn't make sense, my thought processes have gone rambly and I can't get them on track.
> 
> Thanks to Erin for inspiring this in the first place.

“That was really close.”

 

“It was fine,” Benji says dismissively.

 

Will frowns at his back. He puts a hand out onto Benji’s shoulder to turn him around. “I’m serious, Benji. You shouldn’t have –”

 

“Look, it happened, okay? And I can’t do anything about it now,” Benji says crossly. “Besides, you wanted me to.”

 

“I didn’t know you were going to do _that_!”

 

Benji rolls his eyes. “Will, I’m perfectly capable of driving an auto, okay? Even with a sprained ankle.”

 

“If by ‘perfectly fine’ you mean ‘almost crashed into a truck’, then sure.”

 

“Hey, she almost hit me.” He tries for a reassuring smile. “We got home fine, didn’t we?”

 

Will makes a non-committal noise, but lets the subject slide. He knows a doomed argument when he sees one (or starts one, as is the case) and he knows how to back out gracefully. This proves to be a most fortuitous decision when Benji leans forward on his crutches and kisses him.

 

Eyes still closed, Will smiles and asks, “What was that for?”

 

“I know what you’re doing.” Benji laughs a little. “Also, your house is nice.”

 

Will snorts and steps back so Benji can step (hobble) into the living room proper. “You’ve been here before, you know.”

 

“Yeah, but that was under not-so-good circumstances,” is the reasonable reply. “I was drunk of my tits, embarrassed myself thoroughly, passed out on your couch after trying to stack ice cubes on your countertop, and then snuck away the next morning when I realized what’d happened.”

 

“For your information, I thought the ice cube thing was…”

 

Benji sits on the couch heavily and sets his crutches aside. “Adorable?” he offers.

 

“Really fucking annoying, actually.” Will laughs at the crestfallen expression on Benji’s face. “What did you expect, man? You left me with huge puddles of cold water to clean up.”

 

“I thought you’d be endeared by my drunken shenanigans.”

 

“Even your sober shenanigans are trying, Benji.” Will smirks. “You want anything to drink?”

 

“Um…” Benji scratches his chin. “D’you have any Coke?”

 

“Might do. No Diet, though.”

 

“Ugh! I don’t bother with that swill.” Benji’s moue of disgust is the most adorably scrunchy thing Will’s seen in his life (well, apart from SharPei puppies).

 

“That’s one thing we have in common,” he says, wandering into the kitchen – which is really just an extension of the living room, separated by an island table. “D’you want something else?”

 

“Something to eat?”

 

“Hmm.” Will opens and closes cabinets with his one good hand. “You wanna be more specific?”

 

“You wouldn’t happen to have any popcorn, would you?”

 

“Only the microwave stuff, and –” Will cuts himself off and swivels his head to meet Benji’s innocent gaze. He narrows his eyes. “So. That’s what you wanna do.”

 

“Will you make it sound like something dirty. I dunno why you keep making such a big deal out of watching a movie.”

 

Will sighs as he closes the microwave door. He sets the time and hits start before replying.

 

“The problem isn’t watching a movie.”

 

“Then what is?”

 

Will stares at the bag going round and round. Truth be told, he isn’t really sure why he’s making such a fuss. “You remember when all of us, Jane and Ethan and me went over to your place after the Ching job?”

 

“Yeah. We had a Lord of the Rings marathon. It was brilliant.”

 

Will can’t help his smile. It _had_ been brilliant.

 

“Will?”

 

Belatedly, he realises he’s been staring into the microwave without saying anything. “I’m…I – Benji, I don’t have…that.” Oh, great, Brandt. Way to be insanely specific.

 

“What? Lord of the Rings?”

 

“No. I don’t have –” he breaks off, again. “Look, all my DVDs fit into one drawer, alright?”

 

The piercing beeps of the microwave shatter the silence that follows, but Will only jumps when Benji slips his hands into Will’s front trouser pockets.

 

“Will, you know size doesn’t matter, yeah?”

 

The laugh escapes him unwittingly, as does the flush that spreads across his face.

 

Benji chuckles with him, and flutters a kiss behind Will’s ear. “No, but seriously. This is the furthest thing from a big deal. Or any kind of deal.”

 

“You have a whole room of ‘em,” Will mutters sullenly.

 

“Yeah, ‘cause I like movies, and ‘cause I don’t have much to spend my money on,” he says reasonably. “You forget I live in a teeny tiny apartment, with a few computers and a Japanese peace lily for company. You have crockery, for Heaven’s sake.”

 

Will frowns. “You don’t?”

 

“Nothing matching, and not very much. Sister swiped them.” Benji noses the back of Will’s neck. “Don’t distract me.”

 

“What exactly am I supposed to be distracting you from?”  
  
“From telling you that I promise I won’t comment on the size – or lack thereof – of your DVD collection. Because I honestly don’t care. Okay?”

 

“…okay.”

 

“Great. I’m going to the loo; you get that popcorn out before it goes soft.”

 

Will rolls his eyes but does as bid as soon as he and Benji are disentangled. Rather annoyingly, he _does_ feel better – even so much as to question why he’d been weirded out in the first place. He sighs quietly as he pours the butter. Benji probably thinks he’s ‘mental’, but Will thinks that it’s perfectly normal to have insecurities, even something as petty as this.

 

Lord knows he’s insecure about a lot more things, but now’s not the time or place. Not with Benji beckoning him over to the sofa, the fond smile on his face enough to make Will’s heart pound.

 

And pretty soon there are distractions to steer him away from introspective trains of thought.

 

“You can’t be serious. Bad Boys 2? Point Break?”

 

“Hey, those are classics!” Will protests. “Plus, I’m not the one with the ‘Deluxe Box Set’ of the Bourne movies!”

 

Benji turns a rather fetching shade of red, mumbling incomprehensibly as he turns back to the drawer.

 

“You said you wouldn’t make fun of me for my DVDs,” Will says accusingly.

 

“No, I said I wouldn’t say anything about the _size_ of it.” Benji tuts. “Do try to be more observant, Agent Brandt.”

 

Will can hear the grin in Benji’s voice. Will’s near-perfect eidetic memory is no new thing.

 

“Just shut up and choose something, you huge dork.”

 

In the end they watch Hot Fuzz, because Benji has never seen it, and the Avengers because Will hadn’t gotten around to watching it after its purchase. Seeing as they’d finished the popcorn very early on, they’d ordered pizza, and had set about making the living room a mess.

 

(They succeed, incidentally.)

 

It’s when the streets of New York are safe again (though extensively damaged) that Will breaks the silence.

 

“You’re an idiot, you know that?”

 

“By extension, then, so are you.” Benji scratches at his scattering of stubble. “And so’s Ethan.”

 

Will raises an eyebrow. “Not Jane?”

 

“She didn’t get caught.”

 

“Oh.” Will shifts. “Don’t think I could call either of them an idiot. Too scary.”

 

“True, that.”

 

“You’re scary too, you know.”

 

Benji’s look is dry. “Mere seconds ago you were calling me an idiot, remember?”

 

“Yeah, but – okay, granted, right now you’re not particularly intimidating.”

 

This is an incontrovertible fact. Benji is in a plain white T-shirt and a plain white robe (that he’d stolen from Will’s bathroom) and the most lurid pink-and-yellow boxers. The bright green cucumbers that make up the print proudly proclaim that they’re ‘cool, man!’. Combine that with the ankle cast and Benji looks rather vulnerable. Bordering on cute, even.

 

“Well, you’re not very intimidating yourself, Mr. ‘I love daisies’.”

 

It’s Will’s turn to don a pained expression. “Look. I don’t know why I ended up in the paediatric department, but it happened. Let’s move on.”

 

“The nurse lady told me it was a’cause of some misfiled paperwork.”

 

“I don’t think it takes a genius to figure out that I don’t belong in a children’s ward.”

 

Benji sniggers. “The kids seemed to like you.”

 

“And I liked them. But that isn’t the point!”

 

“No, the point is that your cast is disgustingly purple and glittery.”

 

A sigh. “No, Benji. The point is that you can be scary.”

 

The credits have started rolling by now, and Benji urges Will to pay attention to the first of the two extra bits of film. He fast forwards through to the second one, and when it’s over he says quietly, “I don’t see it, though.”

 

“Because you don’t seem to want to acknowledge how good an agent you are.” He talks over any protests Benji tries to get out. “I’m being serious. I would’ve never done what you did back in Manila.” He’s referring to the mission that’d led to their current injuries, of course.

 

Benji snorts inelegantly. “And you’d be right not to.”

 

“No.” God, he wants to shake the ex-techie, but he can’t really grip things with his hand. “Benji, I would’ve tried for a logical exit to the situation and would’ve gotten us both killed. You didn’t even hesitate. That’s why we’re both here.”

 

Benji’s ‘mutanty’ eyes (his words, not Will’s) are still stubbornly on the DVD title menu. “And yet I’m an idiot?”

 

“You’re an idiot for thinking that I wouldn’t care if you made that sacrifice.”

 

“I never –”

 

“Benji, please.”

 

He absently picks crumbs from off his lap. “Alright. Y’got me.” A sigh. “I don’t mean to diminish your feelings, or anything, but I. At the time it seemed like the right thing to do.”

 

Will reaches for his hand (and it’s a process, because he’s sitting on the wrong side of Benji and has to turn his body and reach across). Grips it tightly. “Then maybe you’ll understand that, if I’d done the same…”

 

Benji doesn’t answer for a long moment, but when he does, he finally looks up at Will. “If you’d done the same, and if we’d survived, then – then I’d be calling you an idiot, too.”

 

Perhaps it isn’t entirely normal for Will to be relieved at this answer, but he doesn’t really care.

 

“Maybe worse.”

 

“Okay, let’s not get carried away, here.” Will laughs a little and presses the backs of Benji’s fingers to his lips.

 

“And I was just racking up a string of insults.” Benji sighs, twitching his fingers. “You’ll never know how much you’d’ve been burned by my rapier wit.”

 

“I’m sure I’ll be able to live with the disappointment.” He pulls gently and Benji moves obligingly. They end up lying on the couch, Benji pulled against Will’s chest. There’s still the gag reel and the extras to watch, after all.

 

“You know what?” Benji asks after awhile.

 

“Wh–?”

 

“You remind me of Hawkeye.”

 

“The archer dude? No way.”

 

“Yeah way.”

 

“Don’t see it.”

 

“There’s…something I can’t put my finger on. But you definitely remind me of him. Or he reminds me of you. Whichever.”

 

“Uh-huh. I like that the actor made that StarTrek reference. That was kind of cool.”

 

“You…like StarTrek?”

 

“Uh, yes?”

 

“Thank _goodness_.”

 

Will pushes himself up on his elbow. “What, like you’d have nothing to do with me if I didn’t?”

 

Benji doesn’t even grace him with an answer; he just looks at Will like the answer to that is the most obvious thing in the world.

 

“Wow. Didn’t think Jane or Ethan were Trekkies.”

 

“Jane is. Ethan isn’t. But I’m not dating either of them, am I?”

 

That heart pounding thing is happening again, this time even more intense than before. Will’s just about to kiss Benji when he’s interrupted by a huge yawn.

 

Benji laughs in his face, the dick. He pushes up off the sofa. “Right. I refuse to sleep here.”

 

“Inviting yourself to my bed, I see,” Will says, getting to his feet. “Slick.”

 

“I just beat you to it. You use me. I’m your driving booty call, that’s what I am.”

 

“Never,” Will says gravely, “never ever use the phrase ‘booty call’ in my presence. Ever.”

 

Benji abandons his crutches and instead hobbles along gamely, grinning at Will. “Even if it’s pertaining to you?”

 

Will rolls his eyes and ignores the solid grab to his ass.

 

He finds an extra toothbrush for Benji and tries not to let it bother him that it feels so _normal_. As cliché as it sounds, Will’s never been with anyone that makes him feel this way (‘this way’ being ‘tingly and special and oh god I could actually get used to this’) – and it is utterly fucking terrifying.

 

Typically, Benji makes it worse by helping him fill his glass with water. He even – and Will can hardly believe it when it happens – he even helps Will wipe his face, just because his arm is in a sling.

 

Again, now’s not the time for these thoughts. Then again, he can hardly think of anything else with Benji smiling at him like that and certainly not when they’re under the covers and Benji’s mouth tastes like peppermint.

 

They kiss for what seems like hours (but is actually almost one), until finally they’re just staring at each other through half-lidded eyes. They should really be asleep (they’re meeting Ethan for one of his ridiculously early breakfasts tomorrow), but Will can see the gathering thoughts in Benji’s eyes, and he smiles a bit as he strokes Benji’s cheek. 

“Ask,” he says.

 

“It’s not a question.”

 

Will doesn’t reply, he just thumbs Benji’s chin softly.

 

“About Manila…there is a reason I reacted so…badly.” Benji swallows, the hand on Will’s hip twitching as he puts his thoughts in order. “I, um. Seeing you in that chair, like that, I couldn’t… I mean, I was already in a bad way, but when I was given that gun, it was nothing to do with the mission or IMF or anything. It was me being selfish.”

 

There is literally no other sound in the room other than the blood rushing in Will’s ears.

 

“I s’pose maybe it’s time to say it? To…” Benji bites his lip before pushing on. “To tell you, that. Um. I –” He breaks off, then. Not because he wants to, but because Will’s fingers are on his lips.

 

“You don’t have to.”

 

Benji’s lips tense under Will’s fingertips.

 

“No. I know what you want to say.” Will sucks in a shuddering breath. “And while you may be ready, I’m not.”

 

“Will,” Benji says, voice muffled, but Will interrupts.

 

“Please, man. I, I can’t, okay?” The look on Benji’s face fucking _breaks_ his heart, but he ploughs on. “Can we postpone this conversation to when we’re both healed?”

 

“Yeah, yes, of course. Anything you want. I respect your choice.” His voice his perfectly level but Will can see the shuttered expression in his eyes and hastily grabs at Benji before the other man can pull away physically as well.

 

“Benji, _don’t_. This is me, okay? I am shit scared of fucking this up, okay? I need time. Can you give me that? Just – just a few weeks.”

 

It takes too long for Benji to bring his hand up to cover Will’s, and when he does, the relief is palpable.

 

“Alright,” he says, sighing. Not half a moment later and he’s smirking, like the previous conversation hadn’t even happened. “Any later than that and I’ll go see if Jane’s free for dinner and dancing.”

 

“You can’t dance for shit,” Will retorts, and sighs. “I don’t deserve you.”

 

 “Shut up,” Benji says without preamble. “It’s going to take more than a little wait and too few DVDs to chase me away.”

 

Will snorts even as he’s tucking his head under Benji’s chin. He refuses to grace that statement with an answer, but it doesn’t seem like Benji’s looking for one. Just before his eyes slip closed, though, he feels lips press against his temple.

 

“We’ve survived worse,” Benji whispers.

**Author's Note:**

> \- Simon Pegg on his eye colour: For the record my peepers are bluey grey with flecks of brown for I am slightly mutanty.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
